


A Very Merry Crack Christmas

by madamedicelia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Kawaii, Lols, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamedicelia/pseuds/madamedicelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wrote this in one day as a sort of challenge because someone rather inspired/motivated me to do a Christmas special!</p></blockquote>





	1. Da Fluff

“Hey, merry Christmas! Welcome to the party, dude!” along with a tight, choking hug was America’s greeting as the invited nations slowly starting showing up for his annual Christmas party. He couldn’t trick anyone into hosting the extravaganza this year so the bash was at his place in New York. 

Though it had been snowing nonstop for the past few days, the blinking fairy lights shown through the thick snow. They lit up the powdery ice in twinkling glow; some multihued, others that classic sepia yellow and white. The lit up animals were buried almost knee deep and their antlers had an inch of snow balancing precariously on the thin metal but they still shone brightly, as if in defiance of winter. Despite the mismatched lights that looked like a blind man had just picked up a bunch of strands and tossed them about, they had a sort of unity. It was quite like the countries within the house; each so diverse from one another yet when all together, they created harmony in their differentness.

Among the first nations to show up were, surprisingly, Hong Kong and Iceland. They took America’s glomp with a strained face and mumbled greeting but accepted it nevertheless. Even their seemingly emotionless, cold souls had some respect for the fondness and family aspect of Christmas. They handed him their gifts, silently took another side hug of thanks then went to explore the party space. 

Inside the house was no less festive than the outside. There were wreaths and garlands strung up all across the room. Old-fashioned tinsel was draped everywhere and reflected the colorful lights creating a sense that a mysterious source of illumination lit up the room. Small round tables adorned with more garlands and candles dotted the room, each holding different foods and beverages. They included traditional American fare such as eggnog and gingerbread cookies but in a surprising twist, also had multinational food as well; French bûche de Noël, German lebkuchen, Italian panettone and English mince pies just to name a few.

In the center of the room towered a giant pine tree, sap still shining on the branches and the woodsy smell permeating the air. Heavy ornaments and baubles drooped from the branches. They were in accord with the mess of lights outside, no two decorations quite matching but nevertheless working together in a beautiful disunity. A brilliant star capped the tree, its crystals refracting beams of rainbow light across the room and ceiling. Christmas music flowed from concealed speakers, covering all the lively trimmings in a layer of sweet music. 

Iceland and Hong Kong took in the ostentatious embellishments as they slowly strolled around the room. It was almost too much to take in, their eyes darting this way and that direction to observe a new unseen beautification. They poured themselves a drink then sat down in one of many fluffy armchairs and chaises arranged in a half moon around a blazing fireplace. Stockings for each of the countries hung from the bricks, each one personalized with their specific country name and flag. They a bit bulged from the gifts and treats within. Hong and Ice lounged and listened to the crackling of the fire, occasionally marked by a log falling which sent up a mini-explosion of sparks and a wave of heat. They observed as America greeted the rest of the nations and, after their celebratory hug, wandered around much as they had before. They were content in their silence, many only sporadic comments.

From their secluded spot, they noticed many odd happenings. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Germany! Italy! Welcome guys!” America shouted when he opened the door. A freezing draft blew around his legs and escaped into the warmth of his home. It seems even winter itself wants to be somewhere warm and cozy on Christmas.

“Ciao America! How nice to see you! Thank you for having the party,” Italy exclaimed, gratefully taking the hug. The snow on Feliciano’s shoulder chilled America through his sweater but it soon passed as it melted.

“Guten Abend America,” Germany grunted as America swept him up in am embrace. 

“Glad you could come, dudes! Feel free to walk around, eat whatever you want, chat it up.” America gestured to the massive room. 

“Is that panettone?” Italy gasped as he spied his favorite holiday dessert half way across the room. “Merry Christmas, America!” he shouted as he made a run for the cake.

America laughed and Germany couldn’t help a small smile. The Italian really was cute in a childish way. 

“Oh, here, America.” Ludwig handed Alfred a beautifully wrapped gift. “Italy and I picked it out for you.”

“Aw thanks, Germany!” The American took the present gladly and shook it to see if he could figure out what it was. “I can’t wait to see what it is later! You should go enjoy the party though,” America nodded towards Italy who had already eaten half of a panettone. 

Ludwig finished the pleasantries and strode over to Italy, taking in the decorations from the corners of his eyes. 

“Germany, Germany! Try this!” Italy shoved a slice of chocolate chip panettone at Ludwig, reaching up on his tiptoes so he could place it on Germany’s lips.

Feli smiled earnestly at Germany, waiting for him to try the Italian cake. Ludwig grudgingly took a bite and discovered that while the dough was dry, when squished together in his mouth and with the chocolate, it tasted sweet and delicious. He quickly finished off the whole slice and began to see why Italy had been so excited about it. 

“Ja, it’s good,” he said after chewing, ever so polite.

“Yay!” Italy clapped in joy. “Now try one of these, it’s struffoli. Oh and this too! I love pasteira!” Italy babbled on about his favorite dishes, thrusting them at Germany for his opinion on their taste. Ludwig gladly ate them, if only to make Italy happy and see that smile on his face whenever he said something tasted good. 

“Dese are all very appetizing but would you like to taste some traditional German cuisine?” Ludwig asked as he used a napkin to wipe away some loose powdered sugar from the pandoro.

“Sure, Germany!” Italy smiled so his eyes crinkled so much they almost closed. 

Germany led Italy over to the table covered in delicacies such as christstollen and pfefferkuchenhaus. Feliciano chatted casually about the decorations and atmosphere as he clung to Germany’s arm, always looking up to him as if in confirmation or in search of his approval. Ludwig unwittingly smiled every time after Italy looked away. 

“Here, try some glühwein,” Germany said when they found the German foods table. He handed a cup to Italy, the steam still raising form the scorching spiced wine. 

“Ooh, that’s hot.” Italy blew on the liquid, the vapor clouds bending away from his breathe. He took a tiny slip. “That’s pretty good!”  
“I knew you’d like it,” Germany said. “You love wine.” He gave Italy a small smile, one of the few he allowed Feli to see. While he loved the little Italian, it was not in Ludwig’s nature to be so forward or expressive with his emotions. But every one and a while he let a smile or hug slip through. 

“Hey Germany, let’s look at the tree, yeah?” Italy tugged on Ludwig’s hand.

Unable to resist, Germany and Italy walked over, hand in hand, to the ginormous Christmas tree. Feliciano gasped quietly as he stared up at the immense pine.

“The baubles are so cute! Look at those doves.” Italy turned to Germany, his head tilted like a puppy. “Hey, isn’t there a song with doves?”

“Ja, the Twelve Days of Christmas. There are two turtle doves. Do you know what they represent?” Italy shook his head so Germany continued to explain. “They’re a sign of a strong bond of loyalty and sometimes love between two people. Turtle doves only ever have one partner they stay faithful to their whole life.”

“That’s so cute,” Italy sighed happily. He walked up to the tree, reached up high, and plucked the two pure white doves off the branches. Pine needles rained down as the branches sprung back from the sudden removal of weight. “Nobody will miss these.”

He walked back and handed Germany one of the turtle doves. “Here, take this.” He smiled shyly at Ludwig.

“Why?” Germany asked quizzically. 

Italy looked down, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks. “Well, you said they symbolize loyalty and love so I figured if we both have one of the pair, we’ll always stay to true each other.”

“Oh. That’s… sweet, Italy. Thank you,” Germany responded, a tad mystified by the display of affection. “I’ll keep it with me always.”

“Oh, yay! Thank you, Germany!” Feliciano threw his arms around Ludwig’s neck and mumbled into his neck, “I love you.”

Germany stepped back from the force of the surprise embrace. “Ah, I- I love you, too, Italy.” He was glad no one could see his violent blush.

Feli leaned back and smiled that smile that made Germany’s heart skip a beat. Italy closed his eyes and leaned in slowly, giving Germany time to pull back if he wanted too. In a shocking twist, Germany closed the small gap and kissed Italy. He could still taste the spicy glühwein on Feliciano’s warm lips.

“Get a room, you two!” France called from across the room. “You guys are so sweet I’m going to get diabetes if I have to see any more of that.”

Italy and Germany pulled apart with a nervous chuckle but their smiles only grew as they could feel each other hearts flutter in joy and love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

France chuckled as the lovers jumped apart only to stare at their shoes and give each other sneaking glances and smiles. “Ah, new love! So refreshing.”

“What’re you muttering about, frog-breath?” England asked as he sipped his hot chocolate. 

“Nothing you know about, Angleterre,” France said, dipping a finger into the fluffy whipped cream topping England’s beverage.

“Hey! Keep your finger out of my drink!” Arthur shouted as he pulled his hot chocolate away, the liquid almost sloshing out of the mug. France smirked and dotted the whipped cream on England’s nose.

“Lighten up, Sourcils; it’s Christmas,” France purred as he delicately licked the rest of the whipped cream off his finger. 

England rubbed the offending cream off his nose and retorted, “I can enjoy the holiday just fine, thank you very much! I just don’t need whipped cream on my face to do that.” Arthur looked around. “I’m going to go see if America has any mince pies left in his kitchen; someone ate them all already.”

“And if there aren’t? You should try some quiche; it’s much better than that bland stuff you eat,” France remarked as he kept with England’s quick stride.

“It’s not bland! One just adds some malt vinegar for seasoning and everything tastes better. I certainly don’t need any of your weird food,” England huffed as he marched to the kitchen without glancing at Francis. 

France make a face at the mention of malt vinegar but said nothing else. Once in the kitchen, England began opening all the cabinets and drawers, slamming them in annoyance when he found they did not hold what he wanted. Arthur continued to root around America’s kitchen but all he found was junk food and a lone pot of soup.

“Doesn’t that wanker have anything edible in here?” England grumbled as he slammed a cabinet shut.

“It’s probably because all the food’s out there,” France gestured to the next room where music and chatter could be heard as it bubbled up from the gaps around the door. He leaned back on a counter and inspected his nails as England fumed. 

England mumbled nonsense because he knew France was right but was too proud to admit it. “I’m sure I can find something there, then. I saw that Italy’s table looked pretty good.”

France pushed himself off the counter and sauntered to the door, holding it open for Arthur with the same smug satisfied expression cats always seemed to have. “Then, out we go.”

“Thanks,” England muttered, ever the British gentleman he proclaimed to be. He was about to walk out when France caught his arm. “Wha-”

“Ah, ah, ah! Wait right there, Angleterre. There’s something you must do first,” France announced. His smirk was that of those who looked like they’d gotten away scot-free with something big and probably illegal.

“Do what?” England asked, annoyed.

“Why, kiss of course.” France pointed up to the little bunch of green leaves and tiny red berries.

All the blood suddenly drained from England’s face only to flood back just as fast. “M-Mistletoe!” he spluttered. “Who put that there?!”

“Well, I do believe it’s a traditional decoration, started in your own home, yes?” France stated as England choked out half sentences and noises of disbelief. 

“Yes but-” England desperately tried to come up with an excuse, some kind of explanation to dance around the truth.

“And it would be rude to break your own longstanding tradition? Or even possibly offend out host since he’s adopted it too?” France knew he had England cornered and was relishing in having won one of their verbal battles. 

“Yes but-” England repeated with failing hope.

“Surely a little kiss means nothing, bien sûr? Or are you too scared to express any kind of affection, especially to another man?” France took a jab at England he knew he couldn’t resist.

“I’m not scared! I can express whatever emotion I want to anyone I want. And a kiss likes this means nothing to me!” Arthur snapped, taking Francis’s bait. 

France clapped his hands together. “Then it’s settled.” He placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and leaned in close, barely brushing their lips together.

England had his eyes closed tightly but opened them when he felt the kiss end. “Okay, it’s done now let me g- hmphf!”

France had pulled him close and kissed him hard and passionately. England struggled and fought against France’s grip. He felt Francis slip in his tongue for just a second, just to brush against Arthur’s own tongue. France finally loosened his hold and England shoved him off.

“What was that?!” England shouted as he rubbed his mouth, trying to remove all traces of the kiss though he could still taste Francis on his tongue.

“Why, a kiss of course! Like we agreed, yeah?” France said with a wink as he sashayed into the crowd.

“Wait, that wasn’t what we agreed!” Arthur yelled as he chased Francis into the mob of people, starting up another of what the other countries liked to call a “lover’s spat”.

Unbeknownst to England and France, Japan stood off to the side, half hidden by a tall nutcracker army. He had a camera in one hand, the other covering his nose as blood dripped between his fingers. 

“I think I rike this mistretoe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spain was trying to convince Romano to try some Lithuanian food on a table nearby and they both had witnessed the steamy mistletoe kiss as well. 

Romano looked directly at Spain and said coldly, “Try that with me and I’ll stab you in the chest with a candy cane.”

Spain laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t ever try that, Romano! Heh, why would you ever think that?” he said uneasily as he hid his hands behind his back, shoving the mistletoe deep into his back pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Liet, look!” Poland exclaimed as he pointed at France and England. “America put up mistletoe.”

Lithuania looked over in time to see the aftermath of the kiss as France ran away giggling and England stalked after him, his face almost as red as Spain’s tomatoes. 

Poland sidled up to Liet, a mischievous smile on his lips. “I don’t think we need some silly leaves to kiss.” 

Lithuania blushed. “Poland,” he mumbled, unable to come up with a suitable response. 

Poland turned so the closeness became a hug and he spoke into Liet’s neck, his chin resting on Toris’ shoulder. “I still think it’s, like, cute and all but we don’t need an excuse to kiss.” Feliks stood on his tippy toes and pecked Lithuania on the cheek.

“I-I agree,” Lithuania found himself saying. “I mean, like, with the sentiment of the tradition,” he quickly modified, Poland’s accent slipping into his own words.

“Sure you do, Lithy,” Feliks smiled crookedly. He used a finger to gently turn Lithuania’s head towards him and gave him a sweet kiss.

Feliks draped his arms around Lithuania’s neck, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Toris automatically wrapped his arms around Poland’s waist, tugging him closer.

Lithuania suddenly pulled back with a slight gasp. “Polsha, this isn’t really the place for this kind of thing. I mean, there’s people walking around everywhere.”

“Then we can go somewhere else,” Feliks reasoned. He began to tow Lithuania towards a door.

“B- but Poland, won’t they notice-” Liet stammered, blushing even deeper for being in such a situation.

“No one will notice us missing for a little while,” Poland said brightly. Lithuania still looked worried and nervous so Feliks pouted. “C’mon, Liet, live a little.”

“Well, okay then…” Lithuania had barely finished answering when Poland whooped and starting skipping towards the door, Lithy in tow. 

No sooner had they entered the room that Poland pushed Toris against the closed door and kissed him. Lithuania ran his hands through Poland’s hair as they embraced and carefully removed the little tie that held up Poland’s side pony. Feliks, tired of standing on his toes, lowered himself to his normal height and kissed Lithy’s neck, careful not to leave any marks. 

“Wait, isn’t this America’s room?” Lithuania asked breathlessly.

“Uhm-hmm,” Feliks murmured against the skin of Toris’ neck. “And that over there is his bed.”

“Wouldn’t that –ah- be a bit –ah-” Toris faltered as Poland bit his neck slightly. 

Suddenly, Poland grabbed Lithuania’s face and forced him to look directly at him. “Liet. Stop worrying. You worry so much, like, all the time.” Feliks tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lithuania’s ear. “I know it makes you sick sometimes and it makes me worry, too. I don’t want you to be ill and unhappy. Like, I just want you to relax a bit. For both our sakes.” He smiled timidly, afraid he had revealed too much of what happens in his heart.

“Oh,” Lithuania exhaled. He started twirling a piece of Poland’s hair around his fingers. “I guess just one night would be alright, then.”

Feliks broke out in a giant grin of joy. “You won’t regret it Liet!” he whooped as he threw Lithuania back on the bed. He landed on top of him and the mattress creaked and squealed in opposition to the sudden weight. What happened next only Poland and Lithuania really know.


	2. Da Crack

“Oh, my, it looks so grand in here!” Hungary remarked as she walked around the room, her ball gown swishing around her ankles. She would have worn something simpler such as pants but Austria had insisted on this dress. He told her he had picked it out especially for her because the blue complimented her skin and hair so well. For Austria’s sake, she agreed to wear it and she had to admit, it did bring out all the shades of brown and blonde in her hair. 

“It’s a bit tawdry if you ask me,” Austria said, adjusting his glove. 

Hungary threw a glare at him and he quickly amended, “Ah, but lovely nonetheless.”

Elizaveta spun around, reveling in the grandness of the whole affair. “I love the music!”

Iceland, Norway and a few others had brought their instruments and were playing waltz music with a Christmas-y flavor. The string instruments and their vibrating tones matched the surroundings so perfectly, it seemed like it was planned even though one could see that America was surprised to see them playing. 

“Would you like to dance, Hungary?” Austria asked, taking the hint. He held out his hand.

“Of course, Austria!” Hungary placed her hand in his and they stepped like a royal couple onto the dance floor.

They assumed proper waltz position and began dancing, Hungary’s dress gliding across the wood floor and Austria’s coattails fluttering around as they spun. The soft light from the chandeliers above reflected on the floor causing the couple’s shadows selves to dance along with them like a dedicated servant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now Prussia, I brought you along because I thought you would be able to behave yourself. That means no pranks, goofing around or anything else embarrassing. Do you understand?” Germany stared hard into Prussia’s red eyes as he lay down the rules.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, West. Don’t be stupid or embarrassing,” Prussia parroted back, exasperated. “Can I go now?” he asked like a petulant teenager.

Germany gave him one last hard look then nodded his head.

Prussia perked up. “Thanks, West!” He strode quickly into the crowd, eager to taste the multicultural foods and reconnect with his old friends, Spain and France.

Prussia walked around, making small talk with the people he didn’t know well and sampling the different foods and drinks. He heard America asking people where his hat was and someone jokingly said that Canada was by the fireplace.

As he carefully picked at the violently colored American foods, he heard Russia and China discussing them as well.

“I can’t believe people eat this, aru!” China exclaimed, using a fork to scoot a neon green sugar cookie around the table. “It looks toxic.”

Russia intercepted China’s move to stab said cookie and instead took a bite of it. “It’s like eating pure sugar mixed with chemicals,” he announced. 

“In other words, it’s nasty,” China snorted. 

“I’ve had worse,” Russia said nonchalantly as he tossed back the rest of the cookie.

China continued to look around the table for something edible and preferably not artificially colored. “Aha! Fruit cake! This sounds like something fit for human consumption, aru.”

China quickly cut a slice, albeit a bit difficultly as the cake was pretty tough and thick. “You can’t go wrong with fruits, right aru?” Yao asked. 

Without waiting for a reply, he popped a piece in his mouth. His face slowly changed from smug to confused to worried to disgusted. He swallowed the dry and weirdly textured cake with great difficulty.

“So how is it?” Russia inquired.

“Bleh! Nauseating,” China choked out as he searched for something to drink. Between the eggnog and toxic looking Mountain Dew, he chose the lesser of the two evils and swigged down some soda. “How can someone even make something that gross, aru?”

Russia mashed some of the offending cake between his fingers. “I once used something similar to this to torture prisoners because they were not willing to give up certain information any other way.” Despite the utter creepiness of his statement, Russia smiled as like a kid who had won a candy prize at the arcade.

“EH?”

Prussia shivered from the creepy air around Russia and quickly walked away from the strange scene, keenly set on avoiding all kinds of American food.

Gilbert made it all around the room and found him self at the edge of the dance floor. He ate some marzipan as he watched Austria and Hungary move elegantly across the floor. They danced so effortlessly it almost seemed as though they were flying. Hungary tossed her head back, her hair flowing around her like a mermaid’s, as she laughed at something Austria said, probably a bad pun or tacky joke. 

The song reached its end, the last fermata vibrating in the air. The violin, viola and cello players vacillated their bows to keep the note just a few seconds longer. The dance over, Austria and Hungary bowed to each other then walked off hand in hand. Mustering up his courage and swallowing the last bit of candy, he threw his shoulders back and moseyed on over to the couple.

“Oh hello, Prussia. How are you?” Hungary asked with a twitch in her eye that manifested itself whenever she had to force herself to be polite and “ladylike”. 

“Good. You?” he muttered. Prussia then mentally berated himself for being so casual. Hadn’t Germany just pounded it into his head that he has to be polite?

“I mean, very well! And you? And you, too Austria,” he amended. Now that was good and classy.

Hungary answered the pleasantries with more chipper than required. Austria muttered them as well, though his bearing and voice made it seem more formal.

Prussia suddenly took the hand of the one he was infatuated with and bowed slightly. “May I have this dance?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

Hungary was horrified. She stood there with her mouth shaped into a small O. Germany saw the whole thing and sucked in a deep breathe of exasperation and rubbed his temples. Roderich blushed profusely and stammered. 

“So?” Prussia asked as he continued to hold Austria’s hand.

Austria was saved from replying when a loud thunk was heard from the fireplace and a small, soot-covered person popped out. 

“Santa has arrived!” Finland yelled triumphantly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greece was suddenly (and rather rudely) awoken when Finland jumped out of the fireplace. He had been dreaming of him as a cat, lounging around in the sun and lazily playing with a ball of yarn. He was very ticked off but the emotion did not display itself very well on his face.

“Oh, hey Greece!” Finland waved. “Sve will be here soon with the gifts; I couldn’t fit the bag through the chimney,” he chuckled nervously, dusting a bit of soot off his Santa suit and readjusting his hat.

Tino quickly took in the happenings of the party so he could catch up and not be lost when things settled down. He saw Japan bleeding profusely from the nose after opening a door, Prussia holding Austria’s hand as if in a proposal, China choking on something while Russia smiled nearby, England attempting to strangle France and Spain trying to shove something green down the back of his pants. In other words, a completely normal evening for the nations.

In the following silence, there was a knock at the door. The sharp rapping seemed to knock everyone back to reality and they resumed whatever they were doing. America wandered over to see who it was at his door.

“Oh, Sweden, hey! Nice to see y- Aw cool you brought presents!” Alfred cried out in joy.

“Hey Su-san!” Finland shouted as he ran over to them. “I was wondering where you were. I know it’s a bit hard to tame the reindeer and get down from the roof but I figured you were tough enough to do it.”

“It was fine. Jus’ had to tie m’ boot,” Sweden replied in his taciturn manner.

“Well, then want to help hand out everyone’s presents?” Tino smiled.

Sweden grunted in affirmation. Or at least, what Finland hoped was affirmation. It was hard to tell with Sve.

“You first, America, since you are the host,” Finland announced. He dug around the big red sack while Sweden held it open. “Here you go!” He handed America a gift with a flouncy green bow and shiny silver wrapping paper. 

“Awesome, dude, thanks!” America beamed. 

“You just have to wait a few more minutes to open it since it’s still Christmas Eve here,” Finland said. “If I hand these out fast enough, we can all open together as the clock strikes twelve.”

“That sounds cool, I’ll track down people and bring the here so you and Sweden don’t have to run around looking for them,” America offered in a way that wasn’t really an offer but him inserting himself into the situation. 

“Uh,” Finland hesitated and glanced at Sve. He nodded and shrugged one shoulder which Finland took as a go ahead. “Okay then, America. Most people are near here, but can you find me…” Finny trailed off as he read his list. “Poland and Lithuania?”

“I’m on it!” America skipped away in search of the two 

 

Sweden and Finland worked seamlessly together as they passed out the presents. Swedan located the proper box and Finland located the proper person and united the two. Poland and Lithuania appeared a while later, after everyone else had received their gifts. They were both red-faced and panting slightly though they tried to cover it up. France winked at them as they walked past.

“There’s only a few left; where’s Denmark and Norway?” Finland asked. “They’re the only ones left beside me and Su-san.”

“I last saw them leave to take a walk outside but that was a while ago,” Hong Kong said as he lay upside down on a couch, playing with his hair.

I’ll find them,” Iceland sighed and rolled off the couch he shared with Hong.

A few minutes later, a frostbitten and snow-covered Norway and Denmark appeared with an annoyed Iceland holding them by their ears.

“Found them,” Ice said before collapsing on the couch once more. “They said they need air because it was getting stuffy in here.” They way he said it made it seem like he didn’t believe them.

“Hey, what’s that mark on your neck, Norway?” Sealand asked. Being one of the youngest there and most innocent, he thought nothing of the question. “Did you fall or something?”

Norway turned bright red, both grateful for the heat and highly embarrassed because it gave him away. Not that he could have saved himself in that situation.

“On his neck?!” England shouted only to have his mouth covered by France’s hand. Francis whispered something in his ear that magically called Arthur down.

Denmark rubbed his neck and slapped Norway on the back. “Yeah, he took quite the tumble. So clumsy, this one,” he announced.  
Norway violently whispered something to him but most people could only hear snippets and random words such as “Going… kill…you… you hear?”

Sealand tilted his head. “That must mean Lithuania is really clumsy because he has a lot of the marks, too.”

Toris’ eyes widened so much one might worry they were going to pop out of his head. 

“Yeah, that’s our Lithy,” Poland chuckled anxiously as he threw an arm around Lithuania’s shoulder.

After that incredibly awkward moment, Finland handed out the last gifts and together they counted down the seconds to Christmas. Right as the clock struck the first hour in the new day, everyone ripped open his or her presents. Screams of delight and joy peppered the night as the countries reveled into their gifts, temporarily forgetting all their problems and becoming like young children again, easily amazing at everything and anything and perfectly happy to be so.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in one day as a sort of challenge because someone rather inspired/motivated me to do a Christmas special!


End file.
